


Inner Demons

by Salazar101



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Priest/Demon AU, Violence, roadrat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13528149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salazar101/pseuds/Salazar101
Summary: There are jobs that The Church does not advertise.  Father Mako Rutledge kills demons with the help of his own demon, the half-mad Junkrat.  When they're called into a small town for what should be a routine case, they end up so far in over their heads that Mako isn't sure anyone will make it out alive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for over a year but life finds a way regardless. I'll try to make sure it has a routine update schedule, perhaps 2 weeks to start and then moving to once a week as soon as I have finished every chapter.
> 
> Major thanks to [Junkrat-Junkie](http://junkrat-junkie.tumblr.com/) for being my beta
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [ohgodsalazarwhy](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/)

The bar was dim and smokey, the fluorescent lights flickering like fly traps above, their only prey the drunks that stumbled in and out day after day.  A listless bartender cleaned glasses and collected tips.  Everyone in the bar was off in some way.  The shy were chattering nervously to anyone that would listen to them, while the loud were shivering in their seats and hiding their faces.  The atmosphere was thick like tar, dripping down the dirty walls and swirling through the cigarette smoke clinging to the lights.

Only two people seemed unaffected.  A priest sat in a corner booth nursing a beer, massive and imposing with muscles that threatened to rip the arms off his black shirt, white collar tight against his thick neck.  His dark eyes were lidded as he watched the patrons.  Beside him sat someone covered in a hooded sweatshirt, fidgeting and picking at the scarred wood of the table with nails that looked like claws.  He giggled gently from the shadows of his hood, and his eyes seemed to glow orange in the dimness, the only feature visible under the hood.

A new man entered the bar, looking around nervously as he darted past patrons like a mouse dodging the swipes of a hungry cat, though not one person looked at him.  He looked mousy too, with a small face and pointy nose.  He caught sight of the two men in the booth and hurried to them, taking a seat as he hauled a duffle bag on the top of the table.

“I...I got it, all of it,” he whispered nervously, shooting glances at the hooded man, who wasn't even looking at him but instead clawing great gouges out of the wooden table with the awful sound of nails clawing up splinters.  The loud scratching seemed like the only sound in the bar.  He looked like he was writing something.  The man blinked wetly and looked away, swallowing hard.

The priest pulled the bag closer, unzipping it to see the wads of cash stuffed tightly together.  He pulled out a few random bills and used a black light to check for fakes.  There were none.  He put the bills back and zipped the bag up, setting it down beside him.  “Talk,” he grunted, his voice like crushed gravel.

His companion giggled again.

The mousy man wiped some nervous sweat from his brow, looking a little green, “It... it's killing my townsfolk.  Please, Father!  Three dead just this week, it's getting harder and harder to hide the cause of death.  It's tearing people apart, leaving taunting messages!”

“Who's it tied to?”

The mousy man stuttered a little, “I d-don't understand.”

The priest growled and cracked his knuckles, he had fat silver rings on each of his fingers, “I could take your money and kill this thing, and if you don't find the tie another one will just spring up eventually.  There's an evil person in your town, and they've bonded a demon.  You have to kill both.”

“But... but you...” the mousy man shot another look at the priest's hooded companion.

The priest grinned wickedly, baring bright white teeth hidden behind thick lips, “I never claimed to be anything else.”

~*~

The town was a small one, it had a little downtown and then mostly farmland just outside of it.  It was both a blessing and a curse.  The blessing was there were less people to look into, and the curse was the sheer amount of space they'd have to cover.  Along with the money they'd been paid, they were also given a room on the top floor of their little downtown hotel.  Top floor, meaning fourth floor.

“Phoaw, ain't the fanciest place we've been, eh?”  his companion quickly shook off the hoodie and jumped on the bed, bouncing with a shrill laugh that always got on Mako's nerves.

“Shut up, Junkrat,” he growled, setting his bag down on the bed and shoving Junkrat away.  His skin was always warm to the touch, just on the side of _too_ warm.

Junkrat bared sharp white teeth in a grin,“Yer in a bad mood, who shit in yer cassock, Father?”  He then laughed again.  Junkrat was an odd one, he had one human arm and hand, but the right one turned black just below his elbow, ending in sharp, wicked claws that were twice as long as his human fingers.  His left leg was human, his right leg digitigrade with a clawed foot.  When he walked the different legs gave him an odd, loping limp. 

A pair of sharp horns curled back from his forehead and over messy hair that was always smoldering at the tips; and finally to round off his bizarre form was a long, thin tail that could cut like a whip if Junkrat snapped it at you.  Mako had learned that the hard way.

“So when we getting' to work?” Junkrat asked, flopping onto his back and folding his arms behind his head.

“Today,” Mako grunted, lifting his pant leg to sheathe a silver dagger against his calf, another up his sleeve, holy water in his pocket.  They'd been doing this for years, most of it was second nature at this point.

“Ya sure scared th' shit outta that wanker,” Junkrat giggled, “jus' 'bout shit 'imself, didn't 'e?”

The mayor had been terrified of them, but Junkrat had that effect on people.  He didn't bother Mako, but then, they were bonded.  Everyone else went a little mad in the presence of a demon.  “Put your hoodie back on,” Mako growled, tossing it back into Junkrat's face.

Junkrat grumbled but did as he was told, “I hate havin' to wear this.”

“You scare people if you don't,” Mako grunted, shrugging on a black jacket.

“Yer the scary one, ya fat cunt,” Junkrat said, licking his fangs with a tongue that was a little too long.  He hopped off the bed and hobbled to the door.  Mako grabbed his hood and flipped it over his head before they left the room.

Everyone looked at them as they walked down the street, but no one stared.  It was like no one wanted to look at them for too long.  He couldn't blame Junkrat for all of that, it was unusual to see a priest as big as he was, looking like a brawler.  Some people asked if he had been ex-communicated, and they didn't believe him when he said no; how could a priest be bonded to a demon and not kicked from the order?

Mako didn't bother to explain it, wasn't worth his time.  The Catholic Church was enormous, there was just as much room for Father Jimmy that saved orphans, as Father Mako, whose work was far less...charitable.

“Are you sensing anything?” Mako asked lowly as they walked down the street.

“Yeah,” Junkrat grumbled, “I ain't seen a single boba place, I'm sensin' that this place is gonna suck.”

Mako grabbed him by the back of the neck to give him a harsh shake, “Pay attention, you little shit!” he snarled.  Junkrat hissed at him, baring his fangs as he clawed at Mako's arm to get him to let go.  Mako shoved him forward and he stumbled, nearly tripping over his clawed foot before he caught himself on a light post.

“Cunt!” Junkrat snapped.  He looked ready to start a fight, but then he stood up straight, nose in the air as he sniffed.  “Wait... wait a tick... this way!”

Junkrat was fast when he wanted to be, running through the streets, down side alleys, and just behind him Mako huffed and panted to keep up.  Little shit was probably doing it on purpose!  Junkrat had stopped just outside a bar, sniffing around and walking over to Mako, who was wheezing for breath, to tug on his sleeve.  “Somethin' were here recently,” said Junkrat.

“Can you tell what kind?” Mako panted.

Junkrat sniffed, shook his head, sniffed, shook his head, “Nah, mate, 's not strong enough.”

“Maybe it's stronger inside,” said Mako, “let's go.”

He pushed open the door to the bar and all conversation stopped.  Mako took in everyone with a shrewd look, but he didn't sense anything.  The bonded human could be in the bar right now and he wouldn't know, but Junkrat would.  He glanced down and Junkrat gave him a shake of his head.  Well, time for some more old-fashioned detective work, the kind Junkrat couldn't do.  Mako walked inside and sat at the bar, the stool groaning under his weight.  Junkrat scrambled to sit next to him, claws leaving scratches in the wood.

“Evening,” Mako grunted at the bartender, who was staring at them with his jaw nearly on the floor, “one beer.”

“Two beers!” said Junkrat.

“One beer,” Mako snapped, giving Junkrat a glare.

Junkrat giggled and didn't press.  Giving a demon alcohol was a really good way to start a fire, or end the night with a murder.  Or both.

“S-sure,” said the bartender, “you...ah... you out of towners?”

“What gave us away?” asked Mako wryly, nursing the beer he was given.

“We don't...well... there aren't any Catholic churches around these parts,” said the bartender.

Mako grunted, he didn't care.  Didn't even go to Mass, couldn't, when he had his annoying companion glued to his side.  He looked the bartender up and down, but didn't see anything hiding in his gaze.  “I've got some questions,” said Mako.

“I'm only part time!” the bartender blurt out, “I don't know anything!”

“I-”

“I have to help someone else!” the bartender practically fled to the other end of the bar, leaving Mako and Junkrat staring at him.

“Suspicious,” Junkrat tittered.

“You probably freaked him out, you ugly wanker,” Mako muttered, but he agreed.

“He wouldn't know anythin',” drawled someone with a soft, southern accent.

Mako glanced at the drunk sitting two stools away from them, his cheek pressed against the bar and an empty mug in his hand.  He had a cowboy hat sitting crooked on his head, his beard unkempt like he'd been drinking for a full day and night.

“And you would?” Mako asked, leaning over the bar and meeting the bartender's eye as he just grabbed another bottle to slide it towards the stranger.

The stranger sat up, wiping some drool out of his beard and pouring the beer into his mug, “Pardner, I reckon that depends on your question.”

“What is he, a cowboy?” Junkrat whispered in Mako's ear, “bet he's never even _milked_ a horse.” 

Mako elbowed Junkrat off the stool, ignoring his screech that made everyone else in the bar cover their ears, “You heard anything about some strange deaths?”

“Why, ya'll hopin' to hold some _strange funerals_ , Father?”  The cowboy chuckled at his own joke, swayed a little on his stool, then took a drink.  Mako waited patiently as Junkrat crawled back up on his stool, hissing indignantly.  “Yeah, there's been some weird voodoo goin' around,” the cowboy finally said.

“What kind?” Mako asked lowly.

The cowboy shrugged, looked around surreptitiously, then leaned in close to whisper, “Pardner, I c'n tell you this much.  There's been weird voodoo in this town a long, long time.  Sorta odd to me that _now_ someone shows up to look into it.”

Mako grunted, “That isn’t your concern.  How long has there been a problem?”

The cowboy chuckled, then hiccuped.  Mako thought he might throw up on the bar but he just shook his head, “Hard to remember, almost feels like goddamn forever.”

That wasn't real information, it was almost like the guy was avoiding the questions.  Mako let out a breath of frustration, “Okay... noticed anything like dead animals?  Animals nailed to doorways?”

The cowboy took a drink, and Mako thought, for just a second, that his dull eyes had a sly spark to them.  “Oh there were rumors of a buncha rats tangled by their tails nailed to a post.  But I ain't seein' that m'self.”

Mako shared a look with Junkrat, whose eyes were narrowed.  He looked back at the cowboy and tipped his head, “Anyone else know something?”

The cowboy sipped his drink, giving Mako a sideways glance, “Pardner, everyone in this town knows just about everythin'.  If you're lookin' for the culprit, you're in the wrong bar.  Now if you'll excuse me,” the cowboy tipped his hat as he got off the stool, stumbling a little, “I have to see a man about a horse.”  He stumbled out the back way, weaving so much Mako was surprised he didn't fall on his face.

“Let's go,” said Mako, finishing his beer in one gulp and tossing a few dollars on the counter before he grabbed Junkrat by the back of his hoodie and pushed him towards the door.

“Rat Kings,” Junkrat muttered as they stepped outside, “that ain't good.”

“No, it's not,” Mako grunted in reply, “is that what you sensed?”

Junkrat shook his head, “Nah, mate, if I'd of smelled a Rat King I woulda known.  Might have two different demons here.”  He giggled, but it had less to do with the humor of the situation, which to Mako there was none, and more to do with a nervous twitch Junkrat had.

They walked down the alley, Junkrat sniffing the air, hoping to catch another scent, while Mako's eyes darted around searching for signs.  Footsteps followed silently.  Tap.  Pause.  Tap.  Pause.  Someone was following them.  Mako walked into another ally between an antique store and a post office, and sure enough someone followed them down.  The ally was a dead end, and Mako turned to see a hooded man in a long trench coat standing behind them, blocking the way out.

“Evening,” said Mako lowly, as Junkrat lurked behind him, hissing.

“Evening, Father,” said the hooded man, he had a deep smoky voice and his hood was so black with shadows that his features weren't visible. 

“How can I help you?”  Mako asked, leaning nonchalantly against the brick wall behind him.

The man pulled out a gun, pointing it right at them, “I'm told you're sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.”

“He stinks,” Junkrat whispered.

Mako cocked his head, really looking at the man before him.  He could be a demon, but whatever Junkrat was smelling, it wasn't the same thing Mako was sensing.  There was a darkness about this man, but he didn't feel like any demon they'd ever seen.  Maybe Junkrat was right, they had two different problems in this little town.  “I wouldn't point a gun at a priest,” said Mako slowly.

“I don't point my gun at anything I don't intend to kill,” said the man lowly, finger twitching on the trigger, “who sent you?”

Before Mako could open his mouth, Junkrat was screeching out from behind him, jumping at the man's face, claws scratching, teeth biting, tail whipping.  The gun went off with a roar but the bullet wasn't aimed anywhere near him.  Mako ran forward, fist pulled back to punch...and shadows swirled around them and disappeared.  They were alone.  Junkrat was looking at his hands in disbelief, “Wot th' fuck were that!?” he yelled, “ain't no blood 'r' nothin'!  Even demons bleed!”

“Then I think we have two problems,” Mako growled, looking Junkrat over for wounds.  He was completely unharmed, though his ill-fitting clothing was in disarray.  Mako straightened what he could. 

“He's wot I smelled at th' bar,” Junkrat said, pawing at Mako, he looked weirdly nervous, “wot smells like a demon, acts like a demon, but ain't no demon?”

“I don't know,” Mako admitted, a scowl furrowing his brow.

He was starting to think they hadn't been paid enough.

~*~

Mako paced back at the hotel while Junkrat lay naked over the bed.  He was on his belly, claws ripping at the corner of a pillow to pull out the fluff.  Without clothes on, the violent scars on his back from where his wings had been ripped off were clearly visible.

“I don't understand!” Mako growled, punching the wall hard enough to send his fist through the drywall.

Junkrat cackled, “'Course ya don't, ya fat cunt.”

“I'll banish you,” Mako threatened without heat.  It was an old threat, and one he wasn't sure he could do even if he wanted to.  Since the day he'd been bonded to Junkrat, his life had changed drastically, and not all in a bad way.  He'd never been good at being a priest in the traditional sense, saying Mass, listening to confession, all that bullshit. 

“Quit pacin',” said Junkrat, ignoring the threat, “come ta bed, maybe God'll send ya a dream,” he added with a snicker, showing exactly what he thought of that.

Mako sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.  He wouldn't get much done just pacing, and though he doubted he'd get any divine dreams, perhaps sleep would lend things clarity in the morning.  “Scoot over,” he grunted, shoving Junkrat aside as he sat on the edge of the bed to strip off his clothes and slide under the covers.  Junkrat twisted onto his side, chin in one hand as the other, the clawed one, traced Mako's bulk over the top of the blankets.

“Ya could always take me up on me offer,” said Junkrat softly, and his eyes glowed as Mako turned off the bedside lamp.

“No,” said Mako, rolling onto his side so his back was to Junkrat.

“It's always open, for _when_ ya need it,” came a gentle giggle.  Junkrat wriggled under the blankets, immediately making them stifling as he plastered himself against Mako's back, face tucked against the back of his neck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako and Junkrat get hauled before the fuzz

The next morning Mako sat on a park bench and people watched.  He had a veggie omelet torn apart on a paper plate sitting in his lap, and Junkrat was crouching on the back of the bench beside him.  Thus far, and they'd been sitting here since the sun had slid over the horizon, neither Junkrat nor Mako had seen a single odd thing.  Indeed, they were the oddest things in the park, and people gave them a wide berth.  Even with Junkrat wearing his hood, anyone taking more than a glance at him would see the claws gripping the back of the bench, or how his legs bent in two different ways.

“This is a waste of time,” Mako grumbled, dumping his plate into a nearby trashcan and standing up.  His back and knees popped and Junkrat hopped down off the back of the bench completely gracelessly.  Of course, none of  _ his _ joints popped.

“What had that cowboy said?” Junkrat said, picking at his chin with his claws as he chewed his bottom lip, “we were in the wrong bar ta find th' right man?”

“I think that  _ cowboy _ might have reported us to that shadowy figure,” Mako grumbled, “he was just jerking us along.”

“Maybe,” said Junkrat, but he looked like he was deep in thought, bushy brows furrowed to the point where he might have been in pain.

Mako snorted, and reached up to squeeze the back of his neck, careful not to accidentally dislodge Junkrat's hood, “Careful, if you think too hard you'll hurt yourself.”

Junkrat hissed and shoved at him, “Shut it! Ya drongo!”

That was when a scream split the air.  Mako was running towards it immediately, as Junkrat clambered up onto his shoulders, clinging to him like a leech as they pushed past confused people to the source of the scream.  It was a woman, screaming about a simple fight between two men.  Mako came to a stop so fast that Junkrat screeched and flipped over his head to crash into the dirt, more people screamed as his hood fell off, baring his horns and smoldering hair.    


“A monster!” someone yelled, and the crowd that had gathered around the fight scattered.

“Well, they aren't wrong,” said Mako, as Junkrat looked vaguely offended.  He crouched down to pull his hood back up and Junkrat wrapped his arms around Mako's neck, climbing back up onto his back as Mako stood up to see the two fighting men had broken apart to stare.

“What!” he snapped, “You never seen a priest before?”

The sound of sirens seemed to startle the men out of their shock and they split off in opposite directions, booking it as fast as they could before a cop car came around the corner.  In less than two minutes, Mako and Junkrat were the only ones in the park, and the only ones the cop could see when he stepped out of his car.

“I was called about a fight,” he said.  He had a sharp voice and sharper blue eyes, blond hair neatly brushed.  He looked like a golden boy.

“There was one,” said Mako, peeling Junkrat off of him and dropping him back in the dirt, his back was starting to hurt with all his damn weight.

Now the cop looked a little uncertain, “Where?”

“Right here,” said Mako.  Beside him Junkrat picked himself up with a grumble, brushing dirt off his pants.

“Ya missed 'em, ya idiot,” Junkrat cackled, “ran off who knows...” he trailed off.

Mako glanced at him with a frown, it was rare for Junkrat to shut up for any reason at all, but he was staring at the cop with his mouth open like he was seeing him for the first time.  Mako took a step to the right and hid Junkrat from view, “They went that way, and that way,” said Mako, pointing in the opposite directions the men had fled.

The cop didn't look in a rush to follow, he was staring at them, eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Who did you say you both were?”

“Father Mako Rutledge,” said Mako easily, “and this is my... associate... Junkrat.”

“Junkrat,” said the cop flatly.

“Junkrat,” Mako repeated mildly.

“Give me his real name,” said the cop, already pulling his notebook from his front pocket and flipping it open with practiced ease.

“That  _ is _ me name!” said Junkrat, looking at the cop from around Mako.  He was glaring furiously, he always got cagey when the discussion of names came up.

“If I looked up your birth certificate is that what I would find?” asked the cop, he was growing more and more frustrated.  Mako was taller than him by a foot and could see he'd already written down “Mako Rutledge—Priest?” in his book, followed by “Junkrat aka---”.

“Yeah, look it up,” Junkrat giggled.

The cop shoved his book back into his pocket, and he looked really irritated now, eyebrows pulled down into a furious scowl, “That's it, both of you are coming back to the station with me.”

“I don't think-” Mako growled as Junkrat tugged on the back of his shirt, he glanced over his shoulder to see him making some stupid fuckin' imploring face.  Mako had no clue what he was on about, but just sighed and held his hands up.  “Fine, we'll go with you.”  Part of having a demon as a partner was learning to trust Junkrat's instincts, which while dangerous, were rarely wrong.

Mako ushered Junkrat into the back of the cop car then followed him, and the officer shut the door with a snap before sliding into the front seat.  Mako tried to figure out exactly how large of a police force this town could have.  Not huge, obviously, as just this one guy had responded to the fight and he didn't have a partner with him.  Junkrat was staring out the window, sniffing against the glass, against the back of the seat, against the bars.  Mako cuffed him through the hood when the officer stared at him through his rear view mirror, looking more suspicious by the second.

“Knock it off,” Mako growled lowly.

Junkrat rubbed the side of his head and gave him a reproachful look, “I smell somethin' weird,” he complained.

“It's a cop car, of course it smells weird,” Mako snapped, but he gave Junkrat's thigh a surreptitious squeeze to show he understood.  Couldn't give too much away to Officer Blondie, after all, he might be the tie and if they spooked him, he could run for it.

The police station was less than five minutes away, Officer Blondie parked by sidewalk and opened the door for them.  Mako got the impression that if either of them tried to run, he'd go whipping after them without hesitation.  Junkrat was sniffing again, but he disguised it as sniffles from a cold, even rubbing his nose now and again.  Idiot could learn.  Mako kept a hand on Junkrat's shoulder as he hobbled up the stairs and into the station.

Junkrat squeaked and then sneezed.  It was a small place, there was an older woman on her phone at the front desk, but she looked up and her brow furrowed at the sight of them.  Mako knew they made an odd pair.  The woman had black hair going grey, dark skin and Middle Eastern features.  Military, or, considering her age, probably ex-military.  Maybe an ex-cop?  She wasn't wearing a uniform now.

At the desks behind her there was a blonde woman writing reports, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail.  Another woman was talking a mile a minute to a man in cuffs sitting beside her desk, and he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.  However there were two empty desks.  One was cleaned, clearly unused, while the other one was used but... dusty?  It had papers scattered over it, and two pictures face down on the wood.  The computer wasn't boot up and it didn't look like someone had typed on the keyboard for a little while.

“This way, gentlemen,” said Officer Blondie, indicating Mako and Junkrat should follow him past the desks and into his own private office.  Chief of Police Jack Morrison.  Oh.  Chief Blondie.  He did seem like the type.  Junkrat looked like he was going to wander off, but Mako gripped his arm and guided him into the office.  Morrison shut the door behind them with a snap and wordlessly indicated that they should take a seat in front of the desk.

Lined on the walls were awards for meritorious service to the town.  Mako even saw some pictures on the wall of the entire force through the years.  He wished he could just stand and stare at them but that would be suspicious, so he took a seat and shoved Junkrat down into the chair beside him.  “Junkrat and I haven't done anything wrong,” said Mako, “I'm not sure why you dragged us over here.”

“It's my job to protect the people of this town, and I've been on the force for over twenty years.  I know when something is off,” said Chief Morrison, “tell me who you are.”

“I told you who we are,” said Mako, folding his hands over his belly, “I'm Mako Rutledge, and this is Junkrat.”

Chief Morrison narrowed his eyes, there was a vein pulsing in his temple.  Mako noticed something a little odd about this police station, or to be more accurate, the people in it.  Junkrat had a way of bringing down the mood in whatever place he was in.  People wound down, became nervous or sluggish around him, but the folks in the police station hardly seemed affected.  Morrison was looking as sharp as ever as he eyed them, and while he was suspicious of Junkrat, he wasn't frightened of him.  Of course, he also hadn't seen him with his hood down.

“I want to see ID-”

“Call the Mayor,” said Mako.

“Excuse me?”  Chief Morrison was looking even angrier, “what would the Mayor know?”

“We're on business,” Mako sat up, leaning forward to rest his elbow on Morrison's desk.  He had some pictures scattered around, all of them of other officers.  Not a family man, surprisingly.  “So here's the deal, you call the Mayor.  If he says we need to let you in on everything then we will... but if he thinks it'll interfere with the reason we're here and he tells you to let us go...”  Mako trailed off, raising his eyebrow pointedly.

Chief Morrison ground his teeth together a little, but finally he stood up and pulled out a cellphone.  “Wait here, I will be back.”  He left the office and shut the door with a snap.

Mako shared a glance with Junkrat and then they were both on their feet in a second.  While Junkrat went sniffing around the office, Mako went for the photos on the wall.  They spanned the history of the town, but he didn't really pay attention to them until Officer Blondie showed up, looking young and eager.  Mako hadn't had a chance to see much of the other employees, but he saw the blond woman with the messy ponytail, though her hair was in a blond bob.  Then the older woman, her hair jet black and a cocky smile on her face.  Mako narrowed his eyes as he saw... well that looked like the cowboy at the bar, young and clean shaven.  Just behind him was a dark skinned man, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.  Though perhaps there was a hint of a smile on his face.  Just a hint.  Then one year both of them were just... gone.

Junkrat was digging through the desk, “Oy, Mako, lookit this!” he held up a picture of Chief Morrison and the dark-skinned man.  Both of them were in officer uniforms and grinning at the camera.  Peeking out over their shoulders was the blond woman.  “It were in a locked drawer!” said Junkrat, “why keep a picture locked up?”

“Not sure,” said Mako, taking the picture and slipping it into his pocket, “but he won't miss it.  Burn the lock shut.”

Chief Morrison would never be able to unlock it, but Mako had the feeling that drawer didn't get opened very often anyway.  The second both he and Junkrat were sitting down, Chief Morrison was bursting through the door, “Get out!” he snarled, “now!”

Mako stood up, helping Junkrat up and leading him to the door.  He kind of wished they had time, or reason, to poke around the police station some more.  Maybe interview the blonde lady, but Mako didn't want Morrison getting suspicious, and if Morrison wasn't the bond he probably knew who was.

“So what did you smell?” Mako asked as soon as they were outside, “was the Chief of Police our bond?”

Junkrat shook his head, “Nah, he smelled though.  Maybe knows the bond?  Ya know who really reeked?  That blonde chick.”

Interesting... Mako rubbed his chin, trying to decide where to go from here.  The cowboy ex-cop seemed like the most obvious choice, but if he was in collusion with that shadowy figure they were putting their lives on the line asking him questions.  He'd been less than helpful, but Mako hadn't known what to ask.  Junkrat was squatting beside him picking ants out of the sidewalk and eating them, he wasn't one for thinking.  Mako could tell him what to do and he'd do it, but left to his own devices he'd...well... eat ants off a sidewalk.

“C'mon,” Mako grunted, grabbing Junkrat by the back of the neck to haul him up and shove him forward, “let's go back to the hotel and go over what we know.”

“I'm huuunnggrryyy,” Junkrat whined, dragging his feet stubbornly, “I'm booored!”

Well... they could probably grab something to eat along the way.  Junkrat had been pretty good today, and Mako could eat.  So instead of walking back to the hotel, Mako walked them to the nearest burger place.  Junkrat ordered a burger, as raw as he could get away with, and extra large fries.  Mako just stuck with fries.

“So,” he said lowly as they sat in a booth in the back, “here's where we are.”  Junkrat was already stuffing his face, cramming fries and meat into his fanged mouth so fast that if Mako didn't know he was a demon he'd worry about him choking.  Junkrat didn't even really  _ need  _ to eat, he wouldn't starve to death or anything.  He was fed from a different, more infernal source.  Mako ripped up a napkin between bites of his own fries, “We have a few players in this game, and we don't know if any of them are the bond.”

He pushed two scraps of napkin to the corner, “Cowboy and shadow figure,” three more grouped on the other side, “then Chief Morrison, Blonde Lady, and the dark-skinned man in the photos.”

“Ya really think they're all related?  Why?  Maybe yer other guy jus' quit?” said Junkrat, spitting food out across the table.

Mako grimaced, brushing chewed up hamburger off his arm, “Only because of the Cowboy, they came and went in the same series of photos.  One year he's a cop, the next he's gone, and now he's a drunk.  Blonde Lady seems close to Chief Morrison and the dark-skinned man, and you said she reeked.”

“Yeah,” Junkrat mused, licking ketchup off one of his claws, “like...hmmm, she ain't smellin' like no demon I ever met.  Ya know that smell people get, when they don't smoke but they been around lots o' smokers?  It's like that.”

“Then the Cowboy said people have seen a Rat King,” said Mako, folding his hands and furrowing his brow as he stared at his torn apart napkin and tried to make sense of what he was seeing.  “So we have more than one demon, maybe.”

Junkrat sighed happily, leaning back with his hand rubbing his skinny belly, “Now that hit th' spot.  Ready fer a nap.  C'mon, Mako, wot's the rush anyway?”

“Oh, I don't know,” said Mako scathingly, “perhaps the risk of human life.”

“Pfft, who cares about that,” Junkrat drawled, blinking sleepily.  He was like a fucking snake, eat a big meal and sleep it off.

Mako sighed, there was no point in arguing with Junkrat.  He had a point though, maybe it was best to just go to the hotel and think.  Tonight they could go back to the bars and find the Cowboy.  Mako threw down some cash and stood up, pulling Junkrat up with an arm around his waist as they walked out and made their way back to the hotel.  Junkrat was yawning and nuzzling against his arm, almost held up entirely by Mako's strength.

With his hood up, and his glowing eyes nearly shut, he wasn't as ugly as normal.  Mako let himself feel fond, if for only a brief moment.  He watched Junkrat's sleepy face, then saw a red dot flash onto his forehead, over the fabric of the sagging hood.

“Wot th' fuck are ya frownin' at?” Junkrat yawned.

Mako grabbed Junkrat to haul him out of the way, a warning cry on the tip of his tongue.  It didn't matter, it was too late; without a sound Junkrat's head snapped back, his brains blowing out the back of his hood as he collapsed in Mako's arms and turned to ash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment if you enjoy the work so far or just want to yell at me


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There isn't time to panic

There wasn't time to be shocked.  Mako threw himself into an alley, Junkrat's ash turning his black suit grey as he made a run for it, huffing and panting.  He needed to get back to the hotel, the perimeter had been blessed, and his room had extra wards on it for protection and hiding.

“Not so fast,  _ Amigo _ .”

The playful voice filled the alley, and a laugh followed it.  All at once Mako felt his muscles seize and he crashed to the ground, sliding in the dirt and broken glass.  The effect of paralysis lasted no more than a few seconds, and he rolled over onto his back as soon as he had control.  Blocking the alley were two figures, one tall and willowy the other short and flickering in and out like she was coming through bad reception.  Demons.  Mako didn't need Junkrat's nose to know that.  The tall one had eight glowing eyes, a sniper rifle resting easily over her shoulder.  Her body was like a guess at a woman's body, but stretched out to its very limit. 

The other one flickered and slipped in and out of sight, but she was smiling cheerily when he could see her.  “Hello, Father,” she said, “why are you running?  Shouldn't you be fighting us?”

“Enough,” said the tall one in a smoky voice, “do not play with him, Sombra.”  She turned her glowing spider eyes on Mako, the sniper rifle lowering to point right at him, “I could kill you right now, but we have decided on giving you a chance to turn back.  Consider this town lost.  It is ours.  Report back to your Church what you will, but never return.”

Mako wasn't in a great place, his bonded demon was ash on his suit and he was on his back like a turtle, his soft underbelly exposed to a pair of apex predators.  Of course, he wasn't a turtle, Mako was an apex predator of his own.  “I was told there were Rat Kings in town,” he said slowly, “but it's actually a pair of Rat Queens.”

The flickering one, Sombra, preened a bit, tossing her hair as she looked down at him, “Bet you've never seen two of our rank, have you, Father?  It would be awfully stupid to hang around.”

Mako grunted and pretended to hurt more than he did, slowly moving to sit up.  The Spider Woman tightened her grip on the rifle, raising it up threateningly, but didn't fire.  Mako wasn't surprised that they'd erred on the side of caution.  Killing a priest in this town would bring down the wrath of the Church on them.  The fact that they knew that told Mako that they'd walked on the surface before and were familiar with  _ The Rules _ , as it were.  


“Who are you bonded to?” Mako asked, hunching over as if he were defeated, hand snaking towards the silver blade hidden in his boot.

Both of them shared a smirk.  Fuck, too smart to get them to spill their tie to the surface.  Enough of this, he  _ had _ to get back to the hotel.  Mako moved with trained speed, whipping his silver blade into the gut of the Spider Woman and then rolling as she screamed and fired her gun before stumbling back, black blood boiling and hissing out of her wound.

“Widowmaker!” Sombra yelled, flickering faster with distress.  “ _ Puta _ !” she snarled, turning on Mako just in time to get a splash of holy water thrown at her.  Most of it fell through, but some of it stuck and she screamed, her flesh burning like acid wherever the water touched.  Mako jumped to his feet and ran for it, never slowing until he was slamming through the front doors of the hotel and taking the stairs three at a time to make it to the top floor.  He was dripping with sweat, and blood was soaking into his black shirt and pants from where glass had cut him up.

Mako didn't slow until he entered the room, collapsing onto the bed with a wheeze, coughing and gasping for breath.  He couldn't relax just yet.  Mako heaved himself up and stumbled into the bathroom, stripping off his shirt and climbing into the tub.  Tattooed on his gut was a massive pentagram.  The knife in his boot was gone, but he had a pocket knife.  Mako was still wheezing, hand shaking a little as he carved a shallow cut along the lines of the pentagram, his blood dripping thickly into the tub.

“Jamison Fawkes,” he panted hoarsely, dropping the knife with a clatter on the bathroom floor, “I have not released you from your service.  You will serve me until the day I die.  I summon thee from death itself!  _ In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti _ ”

Fire rushed over his tattoo, cauterizing the cuts without leaving a single scar.  It flashed into the air and in moments it had formed Junkrat, naked and whimpering as he scrambled to hold on to Mako, arms wrapping around his neck as he curled up on his belly, trembling like a leaf.  “Why'd ya make me wait so long, ya cunt?!” Junkrat was nearly crying, “I thought ya were dead! I thought ya were dead ya stupid, fat fuck! You worthless piece of-”

Mako grabbed Junkrat by the back of the head and hauled him into a silencing kiss, fingers curling in his messy hair to hold him in place until he slowly relaxed.  He pulled back for a short breath, head falling back against the porcelain with a groan, “We're in over our heads, Junkrat.”

Junkrat rest his cheek on Mako's chest, “Wot happened, mate?”

“Rat Queens,” Mako growled, combing his fingers through Junkrat's hair, “threatened me after killing you.  I managed to wound them both and get back here, but now we have more questions and still no answers.  Not only that but now we know they're after us so we'll have to be on alert every time we leave the room.”

Junkrat was silent, and at first Mako thought maybe he was thinking... until he started to snore.  Mako sighed and brushed his hand down Junkrat's back, tracing over the violent scars on his back and brushing along his skinny tail.  To be fair to him, dying was pretty exhausting.  Mako knew he'd regret it, but he was covered in blood and he didn't want to move Junkrat... so he just fell asleep in the tub.

Mako woke up a couple hours later to the feeling of his back seizing up and Junkrat drooling over his chest.  Ah yes, as he'd predicted he was in enormous pain, he was getting too goddamn old to fall asleep in tubs with Junkrat's weight wriggling around on top of him.  Had he ever been young enough for that?  Mako grunted and sat up slowly, ignoring Junkrat's grumbles of protest to turn on the faucet and get the tub filled with hot water.  He was still covered in blood.  “Geroff,” Mako growled, rolling Junkrat off his gut so he could take off his bloody pants and underwear, letting them slap wetly onto the tile.

“I were havin' a real nice kip,” Junkrat whined, rubbing his eyes with his human hand, “ya know how exhaustin' dyin' an' shit is?”

“No,” said Mako, trying to crack his back as the water rose around them, “I can only 'die and shit' once.”

Junkrat giggled, “Ya would shit yerself too, ya would.”

Mako grabbed Junkrat by the back of the head, hauling him in close so their noses brushed, “Don't make me regret bringing you back,” he said, letting their foreheads press together, feeling the curve of Junkrat's horns against his skin.

“Ya'd miss me,” Junkrat grinned, but he'd gone quiet, shrill voice low as his claws traced almost lovingly down the side of Mako's face, “yer a bad priest.”

“I know.”

Priests chosen to bond a demon were usually grabbed up because it was thought they could resist any tricks the demon might pull.  Mako had always been a harsh, shrewd man and they'd thought if anyone would be immune to a demon's wiles it would be Mako.  That might have been true, when they'd first bonded they'd nearly killed each other, but Junkrat had worn him down in all the right ways.  A laugh that had once made him want to cut off his ears was now reassuring.  His weird, lanky body was now familiar and even desirable.   


Mako wasn't half as strong as they thought he was.   


He hauled Junkrat into a kiss, hand on the back of his head so his fingers could tangle in his wild hair and hold him down.  Rat's lips were dry and chapped, his tongue always too eager and too long.  Mako bit him as he tried to slide it practically down his throat and Junkrat giggled into the kiss.  He pushed Junkrat away as the water reached the lip of the tub, turning the water off with his foot and then shoving Junkrat back off of him so he could wash off.  It didn't take long before the water was stained red, but Mako managed to scrub away the dirt and pick out the glass before he stood up and got the shower running.  Fuck, his back was aching.

Junkrat remained sitting on the floor of the tub, his clawed foot had no traction on porcelain, and Mako rinsed off the rest of the blood before stepping out.  He bent down to help haul Junkrat onto the bathroom floor where he lay sopping wet over the bathmat.

“Maybe we can jus' call this place bust?” he said hopefully, “I mean, y' were only hired fer  _ one _ demon an' now we've got who knows how many!”

Mako thought about it as he dried off, yeah maybe they should slip out and contact the Church, they could bring in a bigger task force... but Mako still didn't have any answers.  If he couldn't go to them with solid facts, would they even care to come?  That might bring down scrutiny on him and Junkrat, which was the last thing either of them needed.

“We don't have enough information,” he finally said, padding out of the bathroom to dig through his clothes and get dressed.  Outside night had fallen, the little downtown below lit by weak little street lamps.  Mako jerked when he thought he saw someone flickering below one just outside the hotel, but he blinked and they disappeared.

Junkrat threw himself over the bed, still soaking wet, “Mmmaaaakkooo, I don't wanna go back out there! I hate dyin'!”

“Uhg, then don't die,” Mako grabbed Junkrat by his human foot to drag him off the bed before he could soak through the comforter, “look, we'll find the tie and then go.  We need to talk to that cowboy again.”

“I don't want _ you _ to die!”  Junkrat had curled up on the floor, hands clenched in his hair and face against the carpet.

Mako paused while pulling on a pair of pants.  He looked down at Junkrat, his lanky body curled up in such a way that he could be mistaken as a smaller man.  His tail was tangled around one of his legs and the muscles in his back that had once attached to his wings were twitching.  Mako slowly kneeled beside him, resting one hand on his back to try and soothe him.  “I'm not dying,” said Mako quietly.

“Y' almost did,” Junkrat whimpered, “almost left me alone again.  Please, Mako, this is too much fer us.  I ain't strong enough t' protect ya from two Rat Queens an' whatever else is wanderin' around.”

Ah...shit.  Mako sighed and gathered Junkrat into his arms, sitting with his back against the bed and Junkrat curled up in his lap.  “You don't have to protect me,” said Mako, trying to get Junkrat to let go of his hair before he ripped it clean out or scalped himself, “we protect each other.  Two man operation, right?”

Junkrat sniffed, resting his cheek against Mako's shoulder, “Y-Yeah....”

“Besides, we still have the robes, don't we?” he managed to pulled Junkrat's hands away from his hair and pushed them down to rest in his lap.

“I don't like the robes,” Junkrat muttered, but he seemed to be moving away from a tantrum.

Mako had wanted to leave tonight, but perhaps it was best that they wait until morning.  So he stood up and carried Junkrat to bed.  Junkrat's arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down on top and into another kiss.  Well... they had the time.  Mako kicked off his pants and settled between Junkrat's thighs, feeling a tail caress along his ass and up his back like a leathery finger.

“Not whining now, are you?” Mako teased, “got exactly what you wanted.”

“Well, not exactly,” said Junkrat with a shrill titter, “but it'll do.”

Junkrat's body was hot under him, writhing, needy, grasping.  He was a demon through and through, greedy and desperate.  Mako could never fully sate him, but he could wear him out.  Mako shifted their positions so he was sitting back against the headboard, wrangling Junkrat's mouth away from his to urge him down between his legs.  “Get me slick,” he ordered gruffly, “and I'll fuck you.”

“It's th' least ya can do,” Junkrat kissed his way down Mako's body, hot tongue lapping at a few of his cuts and scrapes before sliding further down to his cock.  His mouth was far hotter than it had any right to be as it wrapped around his shaft.  Junkrat disappeared under the curve of his gut, and Mako just sat back and savored the feeling of him sucking and bobbing, long tongue curling around his flesh and squeezing up and down his cock.

If the Archbishop could see him now, getting head from a demon.  Mako snorted to himself, fingers combing through Junkrat's flaming hair, the warmth tickling his skin but never burning.  Junkrat couldn't hurt him, not really.  After savoring a minute of wet, sloppy sucking, Mako finally pulling Junkrat off his cock and urged him to clamber up and straddle his thighs.   


“I didn't think I'd be doin' all th' work,” Junkrat grumbled, but still he ground down on his cock, letting the head catch on his asshole but never push in.

“You won't be,” Mako grunted, gripping Junkrat's hips to force him to still, “I can't trust you to, lazy bastard.”   


Junkrat pout, it didn't suit his gaunt face but Mako was susceptible to it regardless, “Be nice to me, I jus' died.”

“Just this once,” Mako muttered, rolling them so Junkrat was pinned under him, legs spread wide around his hips.  “Don't get used to it,” he added on quietly, leaning in for a kiss as he pushed into Junkrat's hot body.  Spit was just about all he needed for Junkrat, his body opened greedily for cock, always slick and ready.  They didn't often go through the motions, usually whatever they did was fast and rough... but he'd be nice this time.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Junkrat hissed under him, fingers digging into his shoulder as his claw pierced the sheets. 

The bed springs squealed as they rocked over the mattress, heat building as Junkrat whined against Mako's mouth.  He could be noisy sometimes, but tonight there was something subdued about his gasps and groans.  Perhaps he was suffering from a rare case of self-reflection.  Mako kissed him again and again, suffering from his own self reflections.  They really were in over their heads, and he couldn’t think of anything worse than losing this idiot for good.  When had he gotten so inappropriately attached?  Years ago.

“M-Mako,” Junkrat panted and groaned, tail thrashing and slapping against the sheets before he curled it around Mako’s thigh and squeezed, just one more thing that pulled them flush together.  Junkrat must have really been spooked, Mako couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him so clingy and desperate.  He wanted to sit up and look between them, to see how his cock split Junkrat wide open, how sloppy his ass was, but Junkrat was clinging too tightly to let him up without Rat coming up with him.

So Mako just fucked him slow and easy, watching his face go lax with pleasure.  That was good too.  Junkrat never had the best stamina, so it didn’t take long before he was keening sharply and coming between their bodies.  His hot come was smeared over both of them as Mako continued to fuck him, enjoying how limp Rat had gone under him.  He pulled out and flipped Junkrat onto his belly, laying over him and pushing back inside.  Mako’s eyes traced along the violent scars on Junkrat’s back, where his wings had been ripped clean off.  It wasn’t a battle that had done that, it was Mako himself.  He bent down, pressing lazy kisses at the worst knots of skin, feeling muscle twitch and shudder as Junkrat whimpered below him at the gentle treatment.  Mako sat up with a low grunt, hips jerking as the pleasure finally started to build.  The creaking of the bed and the slapping of their skin filled his ears, sending him tumbling over the edge.

Mako growled as he filled Junkrat up, enjoying his keen of pleasure.  Slowly he pulled out, glancing down to watch his come trickle free, staining the sheets.  He lay down, hauling Junkrat, pointy bits and all, into his arms.  The smart idea might be to count their losses, but Mako refused to give up when they were finally making headway.  They would just have to be careful--Mako brushed back some of Junkrat’s wild, patchy hair--very careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are the love of my life! Also feel free to visit me at [ohgodsalazarwhy](http://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako finds out some stuff

The next morning it was nearly impossible to drag Junkrat out of bed.  He clung to the headboard and screamed like a banshee as Mako grabbed him by the ankle and tried to yank him out.  “Goddammit, Junkrat!” Mako yelled, yanking on him hard enough to send both of them falling onto the floor when the headboard snapped and Junkrat lost his grip.

“I don’t wanna go out there!” Junkrat wailed as Mako roughly grabbed him and forced him into a robe covered in arcane symbols around the hem and sleeves and neck, embroidered in gold thread.  “I hate the robe! It’s itchy! Maakkooo!”

“Quiet,” Mako snapped as Junkrat writhed dramatically on the floor, tugging and scratching at the robes.  He pulled his own robe on over his outfit, it was a complete match to Junkrat’s, though larger obviously.  He didn’t much like the robes either, but for different reasons than Junkrat.  He already stood out in a suit and collar, much less mystical looking robes covered in golden symbols.  It made his job ten times harder when he looked like a fantasy wizard walking around town.  That being said, they were an almost impenetrable armor against demonic forces.  Not even Widowmaker’s bullets could strike them while they wore it. They would not, however, stop them from getting killed by more Earthly weapons.  Or a demon stronger than the protections.

Mako put one of his rosaries in his pocket, the beads so well worn from repetitious prayer that they were like polished stone.  It was comforting to reach in and feel it, even if he normally wasn’t a prayer kind of guy.  Junkrat hated the rosary, he gave Mako a narrow look as it was slipped into his pocket.

It took some coaxing, and shoving, but Mako finally got Junkrat out the door.  They had the hoods pulled up, hiding their features and protecting them from any shots to the head.  Hopefully.  Outside the hotel, someone, and Mako had a fairly good guess as to who, had left graffiti by the front door.  A spider and a stylized sugar skull.  The Rat Queens may even now be watching the hotel, but Mako had bigger fish to fry.  There was great evil in this town if it could support two demons of their rank and calibur, perhaps the shadowy figure?  A tie had to be human, nothing else could bridge the gap between Earth and Hell, and the last time Mako checked humans couldn’t turn into smoke, or didn’t bleed.

“Do you smell anything?” Mako asked Jamie as people in the street gave them an extra wide berth.

“Jus’ the Rat Queens,” said Junkrat, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, “where we going?”

“The bar,” said Mako, gripping Junkrat’s elbow as they crossed the street and headed into the alley, “Our best lead is the cowboy guy and- oh fuck!”  Mako froze in his tracks as they rounded the corner.  The bartender.  The part-time, don’t-know-nothing, don’t-talk-to-me bartender was nailed to the front door.  His throat was cut, and massive railroad ties were pounded through his palms, his thighs, his gut, his feet.  Through the wood of the door and the brick to either side of it.  On the wall above his head were arcane symbols written in his own blood.  They seemed to upset Junkrat more than the body if his keening was anything to go by.

“What do they say?” Mako hissed, reaching into a slit in his robes to put a hand on one of his silver daggers, glancing around as if any one of these shadows could attack them.

“I don’t fuckin’ know!” Junkrat howled, hopping up and down and tugging on Mako’s robe to try and get him to leave, “I don’t speak no High Demonic! We gotta go! Now! Outta th’ town! Fer good!  Jus’ leave it!”

“Shhhh! Shut up!” Mako snarled, “You’re going to attract-”

A scream ripped through the air behind them as people were drawn to Junkrat’s yelling, and Mako whirled around to see at least four people with more crowding behind them to see the commotion.  All eyes on them.  Creepy people in robes standing before a sacrificed man.

“You fucking idiot!” Mako cuffed Junkrat’s ear through his hood, enjoying his yelp of pain.  “Nothing to see here!” he called, gripping Junkrat by the back of the neck and pulling him towards the alley, counting on the crowd to draw away from them to leave.  “We found it, and we need to speak to the police!”

Sirens wailed and Mako jumped, okay, they didn’t really need to speak to the police.  “Run!” he hissed at Junkrat.  People screamed as Junkrat scaled the alley wall like a spider, he spared Mako a pleading glance before he was out of sight and over the roof.  Not a second too soon as the police car blocked the alley and Chief Morrison and his officers came pouring in, hands on their guns.   


“You!” he boomed, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Mako.

“Officer Ziegler!” someone in the crowd cried, “it’s awful! It’s Pete he’s-”

“Everyone back away, this is a crime scene!” The cheery British woman was looking decidedly less bouncy as she helped shepard people away from the mouth of the alley.  The blond woman, Officer Ziegler apparently, had them line up against the wall for future witness statements.

“Reyes, what do you think?” Morrison called without taking his eyes off Mako.

That was when the dark skinned man stepped out of the cop car.  Mako started in shock and almost wished he hadn’t sent Junkrat away.  The guy had a hard, chiseled look to him as he walked past Mako and towards the door where the bartender was nailed up.  Mako hadn’t expected to see him, after all, he was no longer in the pictures... what the hell?  Had they been following a bad assumption from the start?

Reyes rubbed his chin as he took in the crime scene, then turned his eyes on Mako, looking him up and down suspiciously.  “Is there a fair in town I wasn’t made aware of?”  He had a mild voice, but it didn’t quite match the hardness in his eyes.  He looked at the symbols on Mako’s robe, then up at the blood scrawled on the wall.   


“I didn’t have anything to do with this,” said Mako calmly, he could just see the gears turning in their heads as they, incorrectly, put two and two together.  “I just happened to find it first.”

“What a coincidence,” said Chief Morrison dryly, “then you won’t mind stopping by the station to answer some questions.”

“I’ll answer your questions here,” said Mako, trying to contain his temper.  So much of his time was being wasted, he should be hunting down the cowboy! It couldn’t be coincidence that this bar, this bartender, had been targeted.  Was it the Rat Queens?  Had Widowmaker or Sombra done this?  What Rat Queen knew High Demonic?  No... Mako suspected whatever had  _ drawn _ them here had done this.  A power greater and far more ancient.

“Okay, then what’s that say?” said Reyes, pointing to the symbols on the door.

“How the hell should I know?” Mako answered through gritted teeth, “I told you I didn’t do this!”

“Just assuming,” said Reyes, fingers brushing over the well-groomed hair on his chin, “since you’re covered in symbols and all.”

“It’s  _ clearly _ not the same language,” Mako snapped as Reyes began to circle him like a wolf trying to decide if the moose before him was sick enough to take down.

“Oh, did you hear that, Jack?  It’s  _ clearly _ not the same,” Reyes grinned and Mako swore to himself, “so he knows what kind it is.  Knows how it’s  _ different _ .  I think we should take him in.  You going to fight us?”  Reyes rest one hand on the butt of his gun and Morrison did the same.  Ziegler and the british one were looking tense as they glanced over their way.

“No,” said Mako sourly.  The robe wouldn’t protect him from getting shot to death.

“Oh and just so you know,” said Morrison as he grabbed Mako’s arms and hauled them behind his back, using zip-ties instead of handcuffs before pushing him towards the cop car, “getting one phone call is a movie thing.  I don’t think you’re going to get one.”

So much for calling the Mayor.  Mako sat in the backseat with a low growl, staring out the window and hoping to God that Junkrat wouldn’t let him down.  The ride to the station, as short as it was, was in silence.  It was almost empty in there, only the woman with the greying hair remained.  She gave Mako a sharp look as Morrison hauled him in and back towards the holding cells.

“He was in here yesterday,” she said, getting up from her desk to follow Morrison.

“Should have locked him up then,” said Morrison, “could have prevented a murder.”

“I  _ told _ you I had nothing to do with that!” Mako snarled as he was pushed into an empty cell and the zip ties were quickly cut off before the cell door clanged shut, “you’re making a huge mistake!”

“We’ll see what the evidence says about that,”  Morrison turned to his companion, jerking his head towards Mako, “I’m going back, keep an eye on this one, Ana... he’s dangerous.”

Ana didn’t look terribly impressed as she looked him up and down, but she shrugged at the orders, “I’m not exactly going to open the door, Jack.  You needn’t worry.  Go.”  After Morrison left, Ana lingered, looking him over with a sharp eye.

“You can call the Mayor,” said Mako, hoping against hope that she might see sense, “I’m on important business.”

“Are you?” said Ana, lips curling into an amused smile, “well, you’re out of luck.  I’m not an officer... but I can get you a meal if you want.  Innocent or guilty, everyone has to eat, dear.”  She smiled but Mako didn’t trust it.  This woman may not be an officer, but she held herself like one.  He sighed and moved away from the bars to sit down.

“Not hungry,” he grunted.

“Suit yourself,” said Ana, “holler if you change your mind.”

The heavy door that seperated the station from the cells clanged shut behind her, leaving Mako to soak in the silence.  No one was in here with him, and the whole place was lit by a single flickering fluorescent light.  Hardly enough to chase away the shadows.  He wondered where Junkrat was now, if he’d taken off the robes and gotten his fool-self killed, or perhaps he was distracted, or had decided to use this opportunity to escape Mako.  That particular thought stung a little.  He was wasting so much time!  He should be finding the cowboy not-

Wait.  The cowboy had been a cop, him and Ana had been in pictures together.  He’d been a fool! “Hey!” Mako rattled the bars, barking loud enough to be heard through the thick door, “Hey, you! Ana!”

It took a few agonizing moments but she finally appeared, and carrying a tray of food, “Ah ha! I knew you’d be hungry!  Being arrested really takes it out of a person.”

“No-” Mako huffed as she presented the food to him, finger food that he could pick out from between the bars, “Okay, fine, but I actually called you in to ask you some questions.  To... let you in on some things.”  He wolfed down a couple of eggrolls then gently pushed the tray away.  Ana looking intrigued, but not like she believed he had anything too interesting to say.

“Do tell,” she said, setting the tray down on a nearby bench.  Ana always stood just outside his reach, and her hands were held up by her middle naturally, which Mako recognized as a self defense technique.  She was trained, she was potentially armed... and she was his best shot.

“Don’t you find it odd that a priest gets hauled in on the morning of a violent murder?” said Mako quickly, not sure how long she’d put up with him, “It’s not the first, is it?”  Her eyes narrowed but she said nothing.  “No, people have been dying in this town for a long time.  That’s why I’m here.  I can’t tell you too much, the more I tell you the  _ less _ you’ll believe me-”

“I’m not letting you out,” said Ana sharply.

“I’m not asking,” Mako snapped back, “but-” he took a deep breath, “I  _ will _ get out.”

Assuming Junkrat didn’t let him down.

“And when I do I need to talk to our only lead.  I don’t want to know where he lives... but I’d like to know his name.”  Mako pressed against the bars, trying, with his eyes, to impress on her how serious this was.

“You don’t know his name and you think I do?” Ana said.  Her face was unreadable, which Mako actually took for a good sign.  She was thinking about what he was saying, mulling it over and sorting through the subtext.

“He’s dressed like a cowboy-”

Ana let out a sudden bark of laughter, “Oh! Yes... I know him,” she leveled with a look that was almost terrifyingly intense, “why do you want to know?  You aren’t going to hurt him, are you?”

“No,” Mako said, hoping he was telling the truth.  If he had anything to do with the shadowy figure, well... they simply didn’t know where he stood.  Mako didn’t  _ want _ to hurt him if he didn’t have to.  “But he’s the best lead I have.”

Ana bent down to pick up the tray, “You know... people have been getting murdered long before you arrived, dressed up in costume.  Horrible stuff.”  She made her way to the door and Mako panicked, thinking his chance was slipping between his fingers.

“Wait! Please-”

“Jesse McCree,” said Ana, fingers curling around the door handle as she looked down at her tray, “and that’s all you’re getting out of me, no matter how important your mission.”  Then she was gone.

Mako sagged back onto the metal bench that served as his bed.  It was enough.

Now he just had to wait for Junkrat.

Time seemed frozen in the cell.  It was dim, and there were no clocks on the walls.  All Mako could do was sit and wait and hope.  He traced the lines of his tattoo through his robe, grateful that Morrison was so eager to shove him behind bars that he hadn’t bothered to take away any of his weapons.  Technically he hadn’t even been charged with a crime, and Mako knew there wouldn’t be any evidence.  Waiting for the wheels of justice to turn naturally would take far too long.

He must have started dozing because a huge bang suddenly had him jumping off his bunk, disoriented and unsure about what was happening.  Mako stumbled to the bars, gripping them as he heard fighting, muted behind the heavy door.  Fuck! The Rat Queens?  Something more?  “HEY!” Mako yelled, shaking the bars,  “ANA?”

There were a series of gunshots and then a muffled scream.  Silence.  Mako could only stand there and wait to see what would happen next.  Keys scraped in the heavy door and then with a grunt Junkrat came shoving through it.  There were a couple little holes in his robe, bullet wounds, and the sleeves were still gently smoking.

“What the hell did you do?” Mako snapped as Junkrat fumbled with the keys to unlock his cell, “you didn’t hurt her, did you?”

“Her?  That old woman who shot me!?” Junkrat said shrilly, “Not even gonna ask if I’M okay!?”

“Junkrat...” Mako growled.

“She’s fine!” Junkrat said, he looked a little hurt, “I jus’ knocked her out.”

Mako shoved through the big door to see a massive hole blown into the wall of the station, desks and papers scattered about the floor.  Ana was passed out on the floor, but he didn’t have time to check on her.  “You couldn’t break in quietly?” he growled, going straight for a pair of tipped over filing cabinets to go through them and look for a McCree, Jesse file.

“Have you  _ met _ me, mate?” Junkrat snapped back.  He folded his arms over his chest, pouting mightily.  “Should have left yer fat ass to rot fer a bit longer.  Maybe it woulda made ya more grateful!  Or maybe I shoulda jus’ left ya here, ya crazy bas-”

“Shut up!” Mako pulled out the file with a triumphant grin, “It’s time to have a little one-on-one with Mr. McCree!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako talks to McCree

Mako couldn’t leave the building in good conscience without checking on Ana, Junkrat had cracked her on the back of the head, but her breathing was even and Mako tried to make sure she was comfortable before he and Junkrat ran out of the hole in the back of the building.  It led directly into the lot where the police and impounded cars were kept, Junkrat had melted a giant hole in the fence and waltzed on in.

“Ya don’t even care if I’m ok after she shot me?” Junkrat cried crocodile tears as Mako wrenched open the door of an impounded truck.

“I  _ know _ you’re okay, and this isn’t the time,” Mako said, pushing Junkrat up into the passenger seat.  They had to be  _ long _ gone before the other cops arrived.  Who knew how many seconds they even had... the explosion would have been audible through the entire town. “If we survive today I’ll kiss them better, you big baby.”

“Oh, cheers,” said Junkrat, his tears drying up instantly.  He grinned, fangs glinting as his bad mood evaporated. Mako had to be thankful that he never stayed upset for very long.  The truck roared to life as Mako hot-wired it and he was plowing through the fence. Junkrat hooted and hollered, twisting in the seat to watch the metal squeal and tear before being crushed under the tires.

“Hold the wheel,” Mako said, finding a GPS unit in the car and turning it on.  He could hear police sirens but for once luck was on their side, because they were heading in the opposite direction.  Until Ana told them where he was heading, they’d be okay. Junkrat drove the truck like a drunk person, swerving between lanes and at one point riding up on the sidewalk and taking out a mailbox in an explosion of envelopes and packages.

“Are you trying to get us caught?!” Mako snapped, grabbing the wheel before Junkrat could take out a family and get it back into the proper lane.  He shoved him to the other side of the truck and looked down at the GPS as it led them out of town and into the farmland surrounding it. The further they drove out of town, the more Mako let himself relax.  It felt like he was breathing fresh air for the first time since they’d arrived, even Junkrat looked like he was in a good mood, tail thrashing eagerly as he stuck his head out the window and it blew his hood back so his hair and horns were visible.

Mako looked at him from the corner of his eye, watching Junkrat’s face contort with the simple joy of having wind in his face and blowing through his smoldering hair.  They’d been partners for years, Mako couldn’t imagine life without this idiot shadowing his every move.

“Hey,” Mako grunted, getting Junkrat’s attention, “thanks for busting me out.”

Junkrat looked absolutely delighted, “Yeah? Well... it’s borin’ without ya around, ya fat fuck.”  He giggled and stuck his head back out the window.

Mako drove as fast as he safely could, unsure of how much time they’d even have.  The fields flew by, the road turning to dirt and forcing Junkrat to pull back, coughing up dust as he rolled up his window finally.  Mako was glad they’d stolen a truck because the road was garbage this far out, full of potholes and bumps that had them bouncing around the cab.

Finally he pulled to a stop in the dirt driveway of an old ranch house.  Sitting out front was a few motorcycles, all of them looked under repair, and a rusted red Ford truck with the bed full of empty beer bottles.  Oh yeah, this was the right place. Mako stepped out of the truck and walked towards the front door, eyeing the screen as it hung precariously on one squeaky hinge.  Junkrat shadowed him, eyes darting this way and that, if anything was off, he’d sense it.

Mako knocked on the door, hoping McCree was even in, if he wasn’t then they might be well and truly fucked.  Their luck held, from the other side of the door he heard slurred swearing and the clink of beer cans cascading to the floor as someone stumbled towards them.  The door lurched open and there was Jesse McCree, staring at them with bloodshot eyes and hanging onto the doorframe.

“What in- hey hey hey!” 

Junkrat giggled as they forced their way into the house, Mako kicked garbage out of the way as he hauled McCree further into the house.  It was a mess in here, the house of a man just waiting to die in it. There were mountains of beer cans and beer bottles, of hard liquor, of pizza boxes and microwavable meals.  The entire thing stank of a wasted and miserable life. Mako shoved McCree back onto his broke down old couch in a spray of half-drank beer.

“Hey!” McCree tried to stand up, but Mako shoved him back down, “Now... now hold on here- how’d you even find- what in tarnation-!” He caught sight of Junkrat for the first time and his mouth shut with a snap.  Mako turned and saw he still had his hood down, but perhaps that was for the best. It was time to take the kid gloves off.

“You need to tell us what you know,” said Mako sharply, “no riddles, no cowboy-isms.  Now.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talkin’ about, partner,” McCree said, digging through empty bottles until he found one that still had liquid in it.  He lifted it to his lips and drank what had to be warm beer like it was a lifegiving elixir.

“I think you do,” Mako growled, cracking his knuckles and enjoying the way McCree choked a little at the sight, “Officer Jesse McCree.”

“Now hold on,” McCree said, brandishing the bottle, “hold on... wait... how about... y’tell me what  _ you _ know and then I’ll tell you what  _ I _ know.”

Mako thought that was fair, “I know that you used to be an officer in town but now you’re the town drunk.  You disappeared from the photos at the same time that, uh-” Mako had to remember the other guy’s name, “Reyes did.  I know that something happened to him because Junkrat and I found a picture locked in Morrison’s desk, and Ziegler smells.”

“Does she?” McCree asked, brow furrowing, “Now, I thought Angie always took good care of her-”

“She reeks of demon-stink!” Junkrat snapped, “I smelled it! Ya can’t doubt my nose!”

“Whoa,” McCree raised his hands, “not doubtin’...”

“So what happened?” Mako asked lowly, “why did you get fired?  And if Reyes isn’t on the force anymore, why did he show up today with Morrison and the others?”

“He did?” McCree looked alarmed to hear that, “you  _ saw _ Gabe?  How did he look?”

“Normal,” said Mako, “please-” he kneeled down, putting his hands on McCree’s shoulders so they could be eye-to-eye, “I  _ need _ to know what happened.  I have a feeling it has everything to do with the problems in this town, and if you want to save it you have to tell me.”

“I ain’t got as many answers as you think I do,” said McCree miserably, “wish I did.”

“I don’t need you to have all the answers, I just need you to tell me what you know.  That’s all. Junkrat and I will put it all together.” Could Mako impart the seriousness of this situation to a washed up old drunk?  McCree sighed and shrugged Mako’s hands off, using him as support to stand up and sway towards the old fireplace and fumble for a framed picture.

“Gabriel Reyes was my mentor,” said McCree a bit thickly, looking down at the dusty old frame.  He handed it to Mako with a tired sigh, “He got me out of a local motorcycle gang, got me to join the force; and make no mistake I was a  _ damn _ good officer.”

Mako looked down at the photo with Junkrat peeking down at it from beside him.  There was young McCree and the tough looking Gabriel Reyes, both in uniform. Perhaps just after McCree had been hired.  “So,” Mako interrupted, handing the picture back, “was Morrison and Ziegler on the force with you?”

“Oh yeah,” McCree waved his hand, taking the picture and placing it on the mantle once more, “they all joined at the same time.  Ana joined a little before them. Oxton joined after I did. It’s a small department for a small town, y’know?” McCree was silent for a little, looking into space somewhere near his feet.  “Maybe that was the real problem.”

Junkrat had lost interest already, he was digging noisily around in another room.  Mako slowly sat down on the old couch, hearing it groan under his weight and bottles clinking as they rolled to rest against his thighs before he swept them on the floor.  His hand slipped into his pocket without him thinking about it, the smooth beads of the rosary were comforting as he clicked through them, one by one. Hail Mary, Hail Mary, Hail Mary, Our Father. 

“See, violent crime here is real low,” McCree continued, he almost looked relieved to finally be telling this story, “so we didn’t see much beyond drug stuff, some domestic violence... y’know, small town crimes.  Well, you can’t ever count on it, and one day it was me, Gabe, Jack, and Angie all called to a shooting situation. Guy had shot his girlfriend in the head and was keepin’ their kid hostage, threatin’ to kill her if we set foot in the building.  Gabe... he’s... he had... a real soft spot for kids, he took a step towards the front door and took a bullet in the gut, and at the same time the guy lit some gas and the house went up in flames.”

“Shit,” Mako muttered.

“Got that right,” McCree said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that’s when things got weird.”

Here it was, the real meat of the situation; Mako leaned forward, holding his breath.

“I ran in to save the kid, damn near burned to death, and when I came out Angie and Jack were kneeling over Gabe, but I didn’t think that was that odd, because Angie has a medical background so I figured she was just savin’ him...but... I saw darkness gatherin’, real weird, like black fog.  Gabe looked dead, but that black fog slid into his mouth and suddenly he was coughin’ and gaspin’ and sittin’ up.” McCree let out a shaky breath, pulling off his hat to run his hand through his hair before he put it back on. He was pale under his scruffy facial hair and Mako noticed a tremor in his hands.    


“So what happened next?” he asked, dread settling in the pit of his stomach.  If this was what he thought it was, they were in far more danger than he could have ever predicted.

“Nothin’,” said McCree, “not immediately.  We took the kid and Gabe to the hospital, and then we all went back to work... but Gabe started acting real odd.  He’d disappear for days on end, no calls, no explanation. Then people started showin’ up dead, big ol’ shooting wounds.  I... I confronted Jack and Angie, asked what they’d done.”

“And then you were fired,” said Mako, sitting back against the couch, and inside his pocket he was squeezing the rosary so tightly the corners of the crucifix was cutting into his flesh.  He reluctantly let it go and pulled his hand free.

“And then I was fired,” McCree sighed, “I tried to tell anyone that would listen that something was up, but no one believed me, thought I was mad.  But listen...” McCree shifted closer and lowered his voice, “One night a hooded figure approached me, said if I wanted to keep my brains in my head I’d keep my mouth shut.  Then... poof,” McCree spread his fingers, “gone. Black fog.” He pulled back and stood by the mantle again, rubbing his chin, “Been drinking ever since. Can’t get the chill outta my bones.”

“So you’re not working with it?” Mako asked, standing up, “you didn’t send it after us?”

“Send it after you?” McCree’s brow furrowed, “you mean it came after you?”

“After we talked to you!” Mako snapped his fingers, “Junkrat! We have to go NOW!”  He turned to McCree, “You, come with us. I think you’re being watched in some way, now that you’ve told me this you’re in danger.”

For once, Junkrat was by his side in a moment, perhaps he’d sensed the seriousness of the situation by the tersness of Mako’s voice.  McCree wasn’t uneffected either, he followed Mako out of the ranch house and to the stolen truck without complaint. He looked a bit dazed.  “What’s going on?” he asked as he sat in the backseat, leaning over the bench seat up front to look between Mako and Junkrat.

“An Integration,” said Mako darkly, starting the truck to tear out of the dirt driveway in a squealing of tires.

“No!” Junkrat gasped.

“A what now?” McCree asked.

“There are two kinds of demonic ties to people,” said Mako quickly, swerving around slower traffic as he rushed back to town, “possession is the most common, it’s when a demon takes an unwilling host.  This person is usually a tie, think of them like... a leash. Once the demon has enough power it can leave the host and wander in a corporeal form, and if it dies it can come back if the tie hasn’t been severed.”

“You have to kill them?” McCree asked, looking a little ill, but at least he seemed to be accepting what he was hearing.  Hard to deny it when Junkrat was in the passenger seat.

“Sometimes,” said Mako darkly, hands tightening on the wheel until his knuckles turned white, “but mostly we use less drastic methods.  Demons are weak, even when corporeal, during a possession. Think of them like shadows of themselves, their true selves stuck in Hell.”

“Okay...” said McCree slowly, “even this guy?” he stuck his thumb towards Junkrat.

Mako glanced over at him, “Yeah, even Junkrat.”

“So are y’ possessed or-”

“No,” Mako snapped, “it’s different it’s- this is off topic! Integration! It’s when a human and a demon enter a willing pact and the demon takes over the human’s body...  _ all _ of the demon.  This is no shadow, and its power usually attracts other demons which use  _ it _ as a tie.  This particular demon has attracted Rat Queens, so it’s not a small fry.”

“But Gabe would  _ never _ do that! How could it be willing?” McCree sounded stricken and confused.

“I think your friend died that night,” said Mako reluctantly, “the man you saw running around is nothing more than a shell, he’s something else on the inside.  That night, desperate not to say goodbye, Morrison and Ziegler dabbled in something they didn’t understand.”

“So Gabe...”

“Is dead,” it was best not to sugarcoat that, “that vessel is a puppet, and the  _ thing _ inside him plays a part when it suits it.”

“Shit,” McCree punched the seat, he sounded choked up.

“What’re we gonna do?” Junkrat asked as the town came into view ahead of them.

“I don’t know,” said Mako shakily, he was starting to sweat with nerves as he went over plan after plan and discarded all of them.  A true Integration hadn’t been seen in a very long time, the last one had taken a huge team all working together to take out, but right now it was just him and Junkrat.  It couldn’t be hurt with normal means, and it would heal from most wounds almost instantaneously.

“My offer-”

“No!” Mako snapped sharply, shooting Junkrat a glare, “Absolutely not.  We’ll figure it out, we’ll leave the town and contact the Church and come back with enough people.”

“Y’ can’t leave us!” McCree screeched, “y’ can’t tell a man another man is a demon puppet and then up and ride out of town!”

“What choice do we have?” Mako roared, “Junkrat and I can’t fight that thing, you can’t fight that thing! No one can fight that thing! We-”  That was when the truck smashed into what seemed to be thin air, the front caved in with a scream of tearing metal and all three of them were thrown out of the shattered windshield.  Mako smashed into the pavement, all the air knocked out of him so he couldn’t even scream when he felt his shoulder pop out of the socket and the bones in his arm snap like pencil led.

“mAk..o... M..k..o!”

His head was spinning as he rolled over with a pained groan to see someone walking towards him in big black boots, a coat rippling around their ankles.  Mako glanced up to see the hooded figure, black fog curling off him like he was barely held together. Beside him was Junkrat, looking scraped up but mostly unharmed, it would take more than a car crash to hurt him.  His hood was back over his head and he was tugging at Mako’s good arm, trying to get him to stand.

“Gabe!” 

The hooded figure stopped and turned towards McCree who was bleeding from a head wound and sitting on the ground with a clearly broken leg sticking out before him.    


Mako took the opportunity to stand, stumbling and leaning heavily on Junkrat.  Before their eyes the hooded figure seemed to melt away, beneath it all was Gabriel Reyes in his police uniform, thumbs resting in his belt loops and looking down at McCree like he was a delinquent.

“Well, well well... haven’t seen you outside of a bar in awhile, Jesse,” said Reyes, or the thing that was puppeting him.

“Fuck you!” McCree spat, “get out of my friend!”

“Friend?” Reyes laughed, his voice dipping down to a dark, reverberating register that seemed to pound like a bass behind Mako’s ribs, “Oh, let’s not say that.  You thought of me as the Father you never had... and kid, you were like my son.”

“Mako,” Junkrat whispered, “what d’ we do?”

“I...”

“YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!” McCree screamed, tears tracking down his face, leaving streaks in the blood.

Sirens, as the rest of the force finally arrived.  Morrison and Ziegler stepping out of one car, Oxton and Ana out of another.  Ana had a bandage around her head and the second she saw Mako and Junkrat she glared at them.

“What happened here?” Morrison barked, moving to immediately take control of the situation, “Reyes, was there an accident?”

“Oh my goodness!” said Ziegler as she saw how the front of the truck had been nearly split in two by whatever it had hit, then her eyes went to McCree, then Mako, and then finally Reyes.

“I...”

“You know I’ve had just about enough of this farce,” said Reyes, taking a step back as Morrison strode towards him, “cat’s out of the bag now!”

“What are you talking about-”

Black fog began to roll in from every direction, swirling around Reyes feet as from the ground up he was transformed into the hooded figure.  Blackness where a face should be... but the fog was still rolling in, still swirling around him and fluttering his black coat out behind him. 

“I think it’s time to make this town mine.  For good.”

Dark clouds were rolling in, unnaturally heavy and thick, blocking out the sun and leaving them in darkness but for the street lamps that flickered to life in the low light.  Mako glanced up to see Widowmaker and Sombra silhouetted on the roof of a nearby building, but there were other things crawling out of the darkness. Things that were far less human.  They gasped and slobbered and crawled across the pavement, claws scratching and screeching.

“You did this!” McCree was screaming at Ziegler and Morrison, “This is your fault!”

“No!” Ziegler yelled back, “No! We never meant this-!”

“Angela he’s drunk, don’t listen to him!”

“We have to evacuate people!” Oxton and Ana seemed to be the only people not spiraling into madness.  Not that Mako could blame everyone else, this level of demonic energy would drive anyone into their basest, most vile of instincts.

“Mako!” Junkrat whined, he was cringing against him, tail curled around his thigh tightly, “What d’ we do?!”

“I... don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale

The clouds were dark and heavy, like monstrous storm clouds; but no rain or thunder rumbled from them.  They were silent, and that just made them more foreboding. From every alley came howls and snarls of twisted abominations straight from Hell.  They were surrounded by the screaming of townsfolk as they got caught and devoured. It seemed this town was no longer of Earth... but that was the problem; it was.

In the road was a smoking wreck of a truck, something inside it hissing and releasing fumes into the air.  Before it stood a hooded figure wreathed in black smoke, obscuring all but the barest shape of the figure. Morrison, Ziegler, and McCree were to the right, and Mako and Junkrat were to the left.  Oxton and Ana had run off to try and help people, but Mako wasn’t sure how much they could really do. The whole town was ripping open to forces it could never hope to understand, a tear in the very fabric of the universe.

“Who are you!” Mako called to the figure.

“The Reaper,” he said, his voice seemed to rumble from every angle, like thunder from the silent clouds above, “High General of Hell, under Baal, with a 100 Legions to my name! I claim this town, and all in it, in Baal’s name!”  He screamed the last part and all the demons screamed in return, a scream of triumph. 

Widowmaker and Sombra jumped from the building to land on either side of him, his loyal, or perhaps convenient, Lieutenants.  Mako shivered, fear making him sick while beside him Junkrat whimpered and cringed as if he could make himself smaller than he was.  They were so far out of their league it wasn’t funny, it made Mako want to rip his collar off and throw it to the ground, to renounce God in the hope of just surviving.  He and Junkrat had faced threat after threat, but in all their years together they’d never seen something like this.

“Widowmaker,” Reaper snapped, “get rid of the Father and the Son over there.”

She took aim and fired, but since Junkrat and Mako had their hoods up, the bullet glanced off the robe and ricocheted away.  Widowmaker swore under her breath and took aim again. Why? She had to know the robes would protect them. This time when she fired, Junkrat screeched and collapsed, holding his gut and writhing in pain, tail thrashing and slapping against the concrete.

“Junkrat!” Mako knelt beside him, gathering him into his one good arm, Widowmaker had shot directly through the tiny hole in the robe... where Ana had shot him earlier.  “Oh fuck, oh shit, Rat hang on,” Mako held him close, trying to soothe him and get him to stop thrashing.

“Stop this! Reyes I know you’re still in there!” It was Morrison, gun drawn and pointing at Reaper.

“Sombra.”

Sombra darted forward, one hand held up as ropes of purple energy wrapped around Morrison and he fell with a cry, like a puppet with its strings cut.  Mako winced, he knew what that felt like. Ziegler was next, she collapsed beside Morrison with a pained grunt, unable to break her fall.

“Let me tell you something about Gabriel Reyes,” said Reaper coldly, and for the moment his attention wasn’t on Mako and Junkrat.

“Mako-”

“Junkrat, hush,” Mako whispered.

“Mako, take me up... fuck... take me up on my offer-” Junkrat cut off, teeth grit over a cry of pain as his hand spasmed over his wound, “it’s th’ only way.”

“No-”

“Dammit!” Junkrat hissed, snarling in pain and rage as he clenched his fist in the front of Mako’s robe, “So ya’d rather die than give it a shot?”

“Maybe I’d rather die my own man!” Mako snapped back.

“Give up control fer once in yer miserable life,” Junkrat growled right in his face, “and  _ trust me _ .”

_ Trust _ Junkrat?  Mako could still distinctly remember the smell of his breath and the sting of his claws as they fought over the church floor, each vying for control.  Ten silent men sat in the pews and watched, waiting to see who would emerge victorious. Junkrat had tried to kill him again and again until Mako had finally pinned him and ripped his wings off, one and then two, cracking bone and ripping through snew and leathery wing.  Only then had Junkrat yielded and allowed the bond to happen.

Without the bond Mako was sure he would have been killed by now, long long ago.  What loyalty did Junkrat have to him really? Mako couldn’t imagine life without him, but he was a human with human’s weakness.  Junkrat was a demon, he didn’t feel those kinds of things.  _ Trust _ him?  Mako would have to be suicidal.

“Please,” Junkrat whispered, tears gathering in his orange eyes, “Mako... I can’t watch ya die.”

Crocodile tears, they had to be.    


Mako hung his head, he could hear howling and screaming from demons and people.  Perhaps this was bigger than the two of them and their fucked up relationship. If Mako didn’t try, he’d be failing every person here, he’d be failing his station and his duty.

“ _ What are they doing, Widowmaker kill them _ !”

“Jamison Fawkes,” Mako whispered, tangling their fingers together to press Junkrat’s hand against his heart, beating so fast it felt like the heart of a bird, “I invite you in.  Become one with me, I release you to accept you.  _ In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti _ .”

It was instantaneous, just as Widowmaker arrived to slam the butt of her rifle against Junkrat’s skull, he disappeared and the robe fell flat.  Mako was shoved into the back of his own mind, it was the strangest feeling in the world. He could feel every limb but he had no control over them, instead, Junkrat’s very being was permeating every inch of his mind and body.  Junkrat flexed his fingers, he was filled with wonder, Mako could feel that. He could feel everything Junkrat was feeling, hear everything he was thinking.

Excitement, overwhelming excitement and power.  Junkrat had existed as a shadow of himself for years, but now he was whole again.

“Cute,” Reaper sneered, ignoring Morrison, who was looking like he’d taken a boot to the face, and turning to face them, “but what are you?  You’re a trash collecting demon, you’re worthless, you couldn’t even join one of my legions.”

“Oh, I dunno, mate,” Junkrat cackled, and Mako could feel his throat straining to accommodate Junkrat’s shrill voice.  “I don’t think ya know what I am at all.”

Mako felt his stomach flip as he felt Junkrat  _ stretch _ inside him, and Mako realized that there was so much of him that hadn’t yet squeezed inside his body.  All at once the broken bones in Mako’s arm cracked and repaired themselves, his shoulder popped back together... and then the pain started.  The bones in his legs stretched and cracked, joints rearranging until he was hunched on digitigrade legs, but that was just the start. Mako screamed inside his own head as Junkrat cackled and screamed with delight as horns burst from his scalp to curl like rams horns around his pointed ears and his hands turned to chitinous claws.  A tail thrashed free, the tail of a boar but far longer and more powerful.

Then with one final stretch, wings burst out of Mako’s back in a spray of blood, massive, powerful bat wings.  Mako wheezed, but Junkrat was laughing as he filled in Mako’s body completely. He seemed completely at home. There was a constant throb of pain from around his thigh, even Junkrat noticed it. He fished out Mako’s rosary with a hiss, dropping it as it burned his fingers then lay smoking on the ground.  Sombra appeared, hand raised, but Junkrat held out his hand and in a burst of heat that had the concrete cracking, he sent her flying across the street and crashing into the building.

“Holy fuck!” McCree yelled, covering his head with his arms as chips of shattered bricks rained down on him.  Morrison and Ziegler were struggling to sit up, with Sombra smashed into a wall, her spell on them was broken and they could move again, but they didn’t look like they knew where to go or what to do.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, whelp,” Reaper growled, stalking towards them, pulling his massive guns out of the shadow of his robe.

“Then catch me!” Junkrat taunted, sticking out his tongue and launching into the sky with one flap of his wings.  Mako hated heights, and Junkrat was looking down which let him see the ground shrink below them with every mighty pump of his wings.  He no longer had enough control to feel sick, but he was afraid.

_ Junkrat. _

_ Mako! Great body ya got here, but then I already knew that. _

_ Do we have to be flying, he can’t even fly! He’ll just kill everyone down there! _

_ Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that. _

Mako groaned as Junkrat looked down again, and there was Reaper, flying after them.  His hood had fell back and Mako saw he had the face of a barn owl, great feathery wings sending him shooting up towards them.  His feet and hands had changed to razor sharp talons, which he was pointing right at them. Reaper was faster than them, he was catching up so fast that they probably only had seconds before he was on them.

_ Drop. _

_ Are ya fuckin’ nuts?! _

_ Trust me, Junkrat! _

Junkrat grumbled, but he dropped.  Like a stone. Junkrat was a tall man, but a skinny one, Mako was enormous, he was fat, and he weighed over 500 pounds.  All 500 pounds fell directly on Reaper and they tangled together as they plummeted towards Earth. Reaper was stunned, which let Junkrat twist and dig his claws into his neck before Reaper screeched at them and sent his talons sinking into their face.  Junkrat squeezed his eyes shut, but the talons slashed through his eyelids in a spray of hot blood, leaving them in tatters.

The wounds healed almost immediately, but Mako could feel that draining the energy from them.  Every time Junkrat cut or stabbed or slashed Reaper, his wounds healed too. This was a matter of who would run out of energy first.

_ Kick him. _

Junkrat didn’t even argue, he wrenched back and using his powerful legs kicked Reaper in the chest at the same time that he flapped his wings to separate them completely.  Reaper couldn’t twist fast enough, and he crashed into the concrete, leaving a crater behind that he crawled out of, wings looking ruffled.

Junkrat landed without a lick of grace, still moving too fast to keep himself from hitting the ground with a grunt of pain.  He jumped up quickly, just in time for Reaper to recover and run at them, it seemed taking a small beating had infuriated him, and Mako wasn’t sure him suddenly taking them seriously was a good thing.  There wasn’t enough time to fly up, so Junkrat simply braced himself and caught Reaper’s talons with his claws, the chiton was armor against the slashing talons, but with enough pressure it would crack only to heal back up.

“GABE!”

“GABRIEL!”

Through Junkrat’s eyes he could see McCree and Morrison and Ziegler all yelling, trying to get Reaper’s attention.  Why didn’t they understand that Reyes was long gone?  There was nothing there but the demon, he was like a termite who had eaten through a house.  The shape may still be there, but nothing of the substance remained.  However the weirdest thing happened, Reaper faltered. Junkrat was able to send a blast of fire from his palms, blowing Reaper, smoldering and smoking, into the concrete.  It cracked under the heat that Junkrat was radiating, he was a demon of Chaos and Fire, fighting a demon of Darkness and Smoke.

“Silence!” Reaper roared, turning on the three screaming people.  Junkrat made sure he regret turning his back to him, launching forward and using his wings to give his lunge extra force.  They crashed into him, flattening him under his greater physical weight. Reaper was still stronger, he rolled them with a vicious snarl, talons digging into their gut, opening him up like a scalpel again and again, blood gushing and pooling over the concrete below them.  Junkrat struggled to throw him off, rolling and twisting, cutting at his face and neck with his claws, lashing at him with his tail, beating at him with his wings. It wasn’t enough to dislodge him.

“GABE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” McCree was still screaming, crawling towards them with his broken leg dragging behind him.

“SHUT UP! DON’T CALL ME THAT!” Reaper pulled back, talons clutching his head as if he’d been struck.

_ Junkrat, the rosary _ .

Mako realized with horror that Gabriel Reyes wasn’t gone, he was still in there, he’d been in there the whole time.  Helpless as Reaper took control and made him kill and maim and betray his friends. Somewhere inside that black fog was a man, unwillingly chained.

Junkrat groped around desperately, looking for the rosary.

“Gabriel!” It was Ziegler this time, tears streaming down her face even if her voice was clear, “I am so sorry, we did this to you.  I did this to you. I couldn’t say goodbye but I can say it now! I should have said it then!”

“Reyes,” Morrison growled, spitting blood, “I’m sorry, I failed you as your Chief.  I failed you as your friend. It’s time to go now.”

“STOP! STOOOP!” Reaper screamed, stumbling back off Junkrat and shaking his head like he was trying to shake something loose.

Finally Junkrat grabbed the rosary, it melted through the chiton, burning their flesh and sending agony up their arm.

_ Wrap it around his neck _ .

Junkrat lurched towards him, shoving him to the ground while he was distracted.  Reaper struggled, but it was too little too late, Junkrat ignored his searing flesh and wrapped the rosary twice around Reaper’s neck.  It hissed and sizzled, each bead sinking into his flesh as he screamed and fought to remove it. The wounds healed, but they healed around the beads, over and over again, until Reaper was ripping open his own neck with his talons just to get to it.  It was a terrible way to go, but Mako couldn’t look away because Junkrat wasn’t looking away.

Eventually Reaper’s thrashing slowed, he pawed at his neck as his talons shrank and turned to human hands, his face changed into the face of Gabriel Reyes and the black fog washed away in a growing wind.  If there was life in those eyes, it faded before Mako could discern if Gabriel had a brief moment of freedom. Soon it was just Reyes, splayed out on the concrete with rosary beads under his skin, the cross laying in a pool of blood just under his ear.

As soon as Reaper was gone, his legions faded like bad dreams before the morning sun, melting into shadows, their howls and snarls turning into the sound of wind.  Above them the dark, silent clouds were parting, showing that it was still the middle of the day.

“F-Fuck... Jesus... fuck...” McCree was sobbing softly, head hidden in his hands as he lay out over the road.    


Junkrat looked around and caught on Widowmaker, Sombra over her shoulder.  She had her gun resting in the crook of her free arm. She nodded briefly and then turned and disappeared.  Without Reaper here, there wasn’t enough demonic energy to sustain them, they were going back to Hell. Soon, Junkrat was the only demon in the town.

_ Junkrat _ ? 

Mako could just imagine himself living as Reyes did, stuffed into the back of his own mind, a puppet to a demon.  Junkrat had helped kill Reaper, but now what would he do? He had more power at his fingertips then he ever would separated, he had his wings back and a big, powerful body.  What demon would give this up?

With a long, slow breath, Mako felt Junkrat pull himself free, it was like water running down a hill.  The horns shrank, the wings fell off and then turned to ash when they hit the ground. As Junkrat left, Mako gained control of his own body, he lifted his hands and bent his fingers as the chiton melted away to reveal his own flesh.  He hissed in pain as his legs popped and cracked back to their regular shape, claws changing back to feet. 

Soon he was Father Mako Rutledge, and Junkrat was sitting naked on the ground, looking up at him blearily.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he teased, looking close to passing out.

“Rat... why didn’t you stay?” Mako crouched down, pulling off his shredded robe and pulling it over Junkrat’s head to hide his nakedness.  Not that Rat cared one way or the other.

“Woulda been borin’,” Junkrat muttered, leaning into Mako’s arms, “an’ I can’t exactly fuck myself.”

Mako stood up with a grunt, arms full of a big, snoring Junkrat.

“Where do we go from here?” McCree asked dully, he looked shell shocked, everyone did.

“I don’t know,” said Mako honestly, looking down into Junkrat’s slack face, “on, I suppose.”  He looked up into the clear blue sky, blinking and squinting against the light of the sun. This was going to be a hell of a report to the Archbishop, perhaps taking out an Integration would earn him and Junkrat a bit of a vacation.  They’d earned it.

“Jesse, you need to go to the hospital.”

“Don’t I know it, Angie.”

Mako left them to it, the aftermath wasn’t his business; the damage wasn’t his business.  This was a broken town, it remained to be seen if they would rebuild or abandon it all together.  Mako didn’t care one way or another.

There would always be another job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed it, feel free to let me know. Thanks for reading!


End file.
